


A wish for a white Christmas

by 6Darkest6Angel6



Series: De-aged!Dean one-shots [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Gen, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Sam Winchester, Sick Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6Darkest6Angel6/pseuds/6Darkest6Angel6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's been de-aged a few weeks before Christmas & a couple of days before the big day he's sick and there's still no snow, and Dean's really upset so Sam does whatever it takes to give his sick little brother a white Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A wish for a white Christmas

 

A few days before Christmas, Sam awoke to someone crying and sniffling. Opening his eyes, he turned around and saw his tiny three year old brother sitting on the chair by the windowsill, hugging his teddy bear and crying.

"Hey," said a worried Sam, immediately jumping out of bed, and rushing over to the window to kneel in-front of his little brother. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Dean wiped his freckled cheeks, and looked up at Sam with huge watery green eyes. The look on his face broke Sam's heart. "I-I sad, S-S-Sammy."

"Why?" whispered Sam, trying to wipe the tears away, but more filled his eyes, and spilled down his cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"S-Santa not maked it snow," he whispered, lowering his head, and sniffling.

Sam frowned, and wrapped his arms around the little boy, and held him to his chest. "It's alright. There's no need to cry, come here."

As Dean cried, he snuggled against Sam's chest, and wiped his red nose on his shirt. He sniffled and coughed as he tried to hide in Sam's arms, wanting his big brother to make him feel better again.

"Shh. Sammy's got you," Sam whispered, stroking his hair. The hand drifted down to Dean's forehead, and he felt that he was burning up. "Hey, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" Without waiting for an answer, he scooped him up into his arms and carried him back to bed.

Dean pouted miserably up at Sam as he covered him up with the quilt, and tucked him in, making him warm and comfortable.

"You're staying in bed today, you hear me?" Sam told him in a gentle voice, stroking the flushed cheek. "If you want anything, tell me and I'll get it for you straight away."

"Snow," was Dean's answer, making Sam roll his eyes. For some reason, Dean was completely obsessed about it snowing for Christmas, and every morning as soon as he woke up, he ran to the window, and climbed onto the chair Sam had placed there so he could look outside. But so far, there hadn't been a single snowflake to fall from the sky and turn the ground to a glistening white, the yard was just as grey and boring as the night before.

"I bet Santa will make it all snowy in time for Christmas," said Sam, leaning down to kiss the freckled nose, and make Dean giggle. "Tell me the next thing you want, and this time I'll get you it, no matter what it is."

"Hug," he demanded, holding his little arms up.

Sam smiled lovingly down at him, and said, "Now that I can do," before reaching down to wrap his arms around him, to give him the biggest hug he could. He enjoyed holding the sick little boy in his arms for as long as he could since Dean wasn't normally the hugging type, and lowered his head to kiss the messy blond hair.

"ATCHOOOOOO!" the little boy sneezed all over Sam's t-shirt, and sniffled miserably. "Oops. Deanie atchoo'd."

"Shh. It's alright, baby," soothed Sam, laying him back down, and carefully wiping the little red nose. "There we go, Rudolph."

Dean giggled, but the laughter didn't last long, and he started coughing, making his little body shake under the covers.

Sam frowned worriedly, and turned him slightly to rub his back gently. He just hoped Dean would recover soon, and wouldn't be sick on the one day he was really excited about. "I'm right here, I'll look after you. Shh, Sammy's got you."

When Dean finally finished coughing, he looked up at Sam with a sad expression. "Deanie cough coughed," he croaked.

"I know," whispered Sam, reaching over to grab his phone to text Bobby to ask him to go to the pharmacy to get some things to treat a cold and something for Dean's breakfast.

After sending the text, Sam dressed Dean in more layers of clothes, and sat with him in the bed. He wasn't going anywhere today, he was going to look after his sick brother.

Dean moaned, and snuggled up against his big brother's side. He looked up, blinking sleepily, and sniffling miserably, his bottom lip pouted.

Sam smiled, and wrapped the trembling little form up in his arms, and held him, making sure he stayed under the covers.

*************  
Later, Bobby came into the room with the things Sam had asked for. "Is he alright?" he whispered when he saw the sick little boy was fast asleep in Sam's arms, making little snuffly noises as he tried to breathe through his congested little nose.

"I think he's got a cold or something," Sam told him quietly, watching Dean sleep as he ran his fingers soothingly down the flushed freckled cheeks. "Has it started snowing yet?"

"No. It's raining, but still no snow."

Sam sighed, and looked down at Dean. "Snow is the only thing he's asked for on Christmas. He's gonna be devastated if it doesn't."

Bobby smiled and watched the brothers. "There's still a couple of days left, I'm sure it'll start soon."

"I hope you're right."

"Of course I'm right, I'm always right."

*********The Next Day*************

That morning started the same as every morning of the past week; Dean woke up and hurried over to the window to check outside. He pouted and sighed in disappointment when he saw no snow had fallen during the night.

He moaned when he started coughing, and he raised his hands to cover his mouth, and coughed into his palms. He doubled over with the force, almost falling to the floor.

Sam frowned when he heard a little boy coughing, and woke up once again to Dean at the window. "Hey Tigger," he whispered, climbing out of bed, and kneeling beside the bent over form, rubbing Dean's back. "Any snow yet?"

Dean shook his head, still shaking with the cough that was wracking his body. His knees buckled, and he fell into Sam's arms.

Sam caught him, and held him through the harsh coughs. "Hey hey, I've got you," he whispered, trying to soothe him.

After the coughing fit was finally over, Sam lifted him up to carry him back to bed to wrap him up in the blankets from both his and Dean's beds. It looked like today was going to be another pajama day, since Dean was still so sick.

Making sure Dean was warm and comfortable, Sam reached over and picked up the cough syrup. "Hey, it's time to take some more of this," he whispered, pouring some of the pink liquid into the little medicine cup.

"Het-ktchsh! Huh-hitchshooo!" The little boy sniffled and wiped his nose, before leaning forward, and opening his mouth.

"There we go," said Sam, pouring the syrup into his mouth.

Dean swallowed, and grimaced, rubbing his face with his sleeve. "Yucky."

"I know. Come here," he said, seeing that his nose needed wiping. Reaching over for a tissue, he wiped his little red nose gently.

"Why do dat for?"

"Your nose is running," Sam told him, smiling when Dean gasped in horror, his hands flying up to his face.

Dean sighed in relief when he felt that his nose was still attached to his face. "No not wunned away."

"It means it's all snotty, my little snotty monster."

Dean giggled, and hid his face shyly. "Deanie sick."

"Well, I'm gonna make you all better soon, I promise." Sam tucked him in properly, before standing from the bed. "I'm gonna make you some breakfast, okay? Do you want pancakes shaped like cars?"

"Yes pees Sammy," the little boy croaked miserably, hugging the covers to his chin.

"Alrighty then. I'll be right back."

When Sam came back with the breakfast tray, he got back under the covers and placed the tray on his knee. "Here we are," he said, picking up the plastic SpongeBob cup, and holding it out for Dean.

"Fank you," whispered the three year old, taking the cup and having a sip of the cold juice. "Mmmm."

"Are you ready?" asked Sam, taking the cup back, and stabbing a small piece of pancake on the fork, before holding it up, and waving it around. "NEEEEEEEOOOOOW! Open up, the Winchester express is due for landing."

Dean giggled, and opened his mouth to have a bite of his breakfast. "F-Funny Sammy."

Sam grinned, and kissed his nose, before getting another piece ready. As he helped his sick little brother eat his breakfast, he had to keep wiping his little nose when it kept dripping.

When he ate as much as he could, Dean rubbed his eyes, and settled back against the pillows. "Cartoons?"

"You want to watch your cartoons? Okay, I'll ask Bobby to bring the TV upstairs for you," he said, grabbing his phone. "You're staying in bed until you're better."

Dean sniffled and moaned in misery. "Why not Santa maked it snow?"

Sam sent the text and laid beside his brother. "He might be busy right now getting his Reindeers ready to fly, but I bet he'll make it snow right before he goes to deliver all the presents. Okay?"

"Kay." Dean nodded, and threw his arms around Sam for a hug.

Sam wrapped him in his arms, and fussed with the blankets with his free hand. "How's my little Tigger doing? Do you feel better or worse?"

"Sick," was Dean's answer, big green eyes filling with tears.

"Shh. It's alright." Sam ran his fingers down the hot flushed cheek, before leaning forward and kissing the tears away. He pulled away when Bobby came into the room armed with the TV.

"Here we go," said the older man, placing it on the drawers at the other side of the room, and plugging it in. "Hey, little man. Are ya okay?" he asked, turning it on, and grabbing the remote to change the channel to Dean's shows.

Dean whimpered, and shook his head, trying to bury himself in Sam's arms.

Sam stroked the messy hair, and looked up at Bobby with a worried expression. "If he's not better after Christmas, or if he gets worse, I'm taking him to the doctors," he told him, looking down at Dean whose eyes were glued to the screen, watching SpongeBob. He frowned when he heard the snuffles as Dean tried to breathe through his nose. He reached over for some more tissue, and held it to the little nose. "Blow your nose, baby."

Dean put his tiny hands over Sam's, and with a little encouragement, blew his nose. When he finished, he snuggled against his big brother again, his head resting against Sam's chest.

A soft smile crossed Sam's face as he adjusted the covers, and made sure Dean was comfortable, before settling back to watch cartoons all day with his sick brother.

**********  
Early that afternoon, Dean started making choking noises, which made Sam panic. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting Dean up against him.

Dean had both hands over his mouth, and sick was dripping through his fingers, his little body heaving as it tried to expel more.

"Oh crap," said Sam, diving over the side of the bed to grab the bin, and hold it in-front of Dean. "Come on baby, let it out," he soothed, removing the little hands, and rubbing Dean's back gently, his other hand cupped his hot and sweaty forehead.

As soon as his hands were removed, sick began to pour out of Dean's mouth, and into the bin Sam was holding for him.

All Sam could do was watch helplessly as his brother began to cry as his body heaved uncontrollably, and threw up everything he had eaten for the past few days. "Shh. Sammy's got you. Come on," he whispered, tears filling his own eyes as he watched Dean suffer.

"S-S-Sammy," he cried through his retching as he continued throwing up even when his stomach was empty. "H-Hurts."

Taking his hand away from Dean's back, Sam started rubbing his stomach instead to see if it would help. He knew through experience that dry heaving always felt like you were trying to retch up organs, he couldn't imagine what it felt like for a tiny three year old child.

When the violent heaving finally subsided, Dean collapsed back against Sam's chest, exhausted.

"Hey, are you with me?" asked a worried Sam, stroking the flushed cheek gently. He placed the bin back on the floor, ready to be disposed of later, but right now he had Dean to look after.

Dean groaned, and nuzzled his face against Sam's chest, crying.

Sam kissed him on the forehead, before reaching over to dip some tissue in the glass of water, to wipe over Dean's face to try and cool him down. "It's alright baby, it's over. Shh. You're okay."

"S'my," moaned the sick little boy, face leaning into the hand that was on his face.

"Shh. I'm right here," soothed Sam, wiping the little face gently. He smiled when he saw the glazed green orbs looking up at him, shining with tears.

Dean tried to smile back, but the tiny nose scrunched up, and he sneezed over Sam's shirt. "Deanie atchoo'd again."

Sam grabbed a new tissue, and wiped his nose and the tears that were making their way down the freckled cheeks. "I know, but I'll be here to look after you until you're better."

Dean sniffled, and laid back down in Sam's arms, shifting around until he was comfortable. "Hug," he demanded again, holding his arms out.

Sam threw the tissue away, and wrapped him up in his arms. The one thing he liked about Dean being sick was that he kept asking for hugs to make him better, and Sam was always willing to give them to him.

"There you go. Do you feel any better yet?"

Dean stuck his bottom lip out almost comically and shook his head. "No Sammy."

"Oh no. Looks like I've got to let the tickle monster loose," he said threateningly, holding his hand up in the 'scary' shape.

As Sam tickled him gently, Dean started squealing and giggling as he tried to get away from the tickling fingers.

"Are you any better yet?" When Dean shook his head again, Sam sighed, and looked around for something that might cheer him up. "How about a story?"

"Yes pees," croaked Dean, rubbing his eyes.

"Alrighty then," said Sam, grabbing a book, and settling back with his sick brother, before opening to the first page. "In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf. One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and, pop! Out of the egg came a tiny and very hungry caterpillar..."

A tiny smile crossed Dean's little face as he listened to his favourite story, laying in the crook of Sam's arm with his teddy bear in his arms.

***********On Christmas eve************

Dean rubbed his eyes sleepily, and stumbled over to the window. Standing on the chair, he pulled the curtain back and saw the yard was still the same.

"Oh no," he cried, tears filling his eyes, and falling down his flushed cheeks. He started shivering violently, and climbed up into Sam's bed, sobbing.

Feeling two little arms wrap around him, Sam's eyes fluttered open, and he looked down to see the blond hair. "Good morning," he whispered, frowning when he heard Dean crying. "Hey."

Dean's breathing hitched and hiccuped as he cried his eyes out against Sam's chest.

"What's wrong?" asked a worried Sam. "Are you alright?"

"Not s-s-snowed," Dean managed through his tears. As he cried, he felt a familiar sensation building up in his chest and he started coughing.

"I've got you, Sammy's got you," whispered Sam, sitting up with Dean held to his chest, so he could rub the little back soothingly.

Dean coughed and choked, his little fists clinging onto Sam's shirt as he hacked his lungs out.

When the coughing fit finally ended, Sam got the cough syrup, and poured some for him. "Open up," he said, before helping him take it. When he swallowed that, Sam got out the children's cold/flu medicine that Bobby had bought a couple of days before. "This too."

After taking that, Dean was thirsty, so Sam helped him have a drink of water from the glass on the bedside table. "There. Does that feel better?"

Dean shrugged, and snuggled against Sam, moaning in misery.

"I know you feel like crap, baby. But you'll be better soon, I promise."

Bobby knocked on the door quietly, and came into the room. "I could hear him coughing from my room, is he okay?"

"Not really," Sam told him, not looking away from the sick child in his arms.

Bobby sighed, and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. "No snow yet, it's still raining cats and dogs."

That got Dean's attention. "Weally?" he asked, looking over at the window. He frowned, a disappointed expression crossing his face when he saw no dogs or cats falling past the window. "Awwwww."

Sam laughed, and kissed his cheek. "He doesn't mean literally, you big silly."

Dean sniffled and rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists, sleepily. He hadn't had much sleep the night before, he kept waking up coughing and crying when his chest and throat hurt too much.

"Why don't you get some more rest, okay? I bet a little sleep will help you feel a bit better," suggested Sam, covering Dean up properly in the covers, before he started singing. "His name is Dean, and his eyes are green. His smile was brighter than I've ever seen," he sang, gently rocking Dean from side to side. "When he looked up at me with that grin, I knew I would do anything for him..."

Dean smiled, and looked up at Sam through half-lidded eyes as he relaxed in his arms. When his eyelids fluttered closed, he felt Sam kiss his freckles.

"Sweet dreams," Sam whispered, kissing his forehead gently. While Dean slept, Sam got the wet tissue again, to try and get his temperature down.

Bobby watched the brothers with a smile on his face, his heart warming in his chest when he saw the loving expression on Sam's face as he looked after his brother.

"What are we gonna do about tomorrow?" asked Sam, looking over at the window.

"Well, I guess he'll have to go without, because it doesn't look as if it's gonna snow anytime soon."

"I don't care. If Dean wants snow, he's gonna get snow, even if I have to do a naked snow dance out in the yard."

"Do that, and I'll be getting the shotgun out."

Sam's eyes went wide when he suddenly had an idea. "Snow making machine!" he suddenly exclaimed, making Dean flinch in his sleep. "Oops. Sorry, Tigger."

Bobby raised his eyebrows, and stared at him. "What are ya going on about?"

"Do you know anybody who has a huge snow machine we can borrow?"

"Why?"

"So we can give Dean the white Christmas he wants," Sam told him quietly. "He deserves to have a real Christmas. He never really had one after mom died, and he's sure gonna get one this year even if I have to do it myself."

"Sam, even if we can get one, he's too sick to go out in it... and we've already bought him half the toys at the mall for Christmas, isn't that enough?"

"No. I want him to have the best Christmas in the world, and snow is the one thing he wants... the one thing he's obviously not gonna get if we leave it to the weather. Do you know anybody, or not?"

Bobby sighed, he knew by the stubborn look on Sam's face that he wasn't going to change his mind. If Bobby couldn't get one, he knew Sam would try and make one himself. "I'll call around. If nobody has one, I'll hire one."

"Try and get one of those where you can set it so it looks like it's really snowing. We can attach it to the roof so the first thing he'll see is the snow falling."

"Anything else ya want?" asked Bobby, raising his eyebrows.

Sam shook his head, a big smile lighting up his face. "I can't wait to see his face in the morning."

"Me neither. I'll let ya know when I've got it sorted."

"Thanks Bobby."

"Don't mention it, kid."

When Bobby left, Sam was grinning happily at the thought of being able to give his little brother the white Christmas he so desperately wanted.

*********Christmas Morning*************

Sam was the one to get up early this morning. As soon as he opened his eyes, he ran over to the window to see if the machine had worked.

Opening the curtains, he laughed in delight when he saw the snowflakes falling past the window, and the whole yard was covered in white 'snow', even the Impala was white. Looking around, he saw theirs was the only yard that was snowy, and that made him glad he had the idea of the snow making machine, instead of relying on the stupid weather.

Going back to sit on the edge of the bed, Sam watched his brother sleeping for a few minutes, before he gently shook him awake. "Hey baby, wake up. I've got a big surprise for you."

Dean moaned, and opened his eyes. Blinking sleepily up at his big brother, he saw that he had a huge grin on his face. "W-What Sammy?" he croaked.

"It looks like Santa made your wish come true," he whispered, still grinning like a lunatic. "Come and have a look outside."

Dean lifted his arms up to Sam, who scooped him up and carried him over to the window. He gasped, his green eyes going wide, his little face lighting up into the biggest smile when he saw it was snowing and the yard was completely covered in white snow.

"Wow. Santa come, Sammy. Santa make it snow," he said, bouncing in Sam's arms with excitement. "Snow, Sammy. Snow."

Sam laughed and kissed the flushed, warm cheek. "I know." Even though Dean was too sick to go out in the freezing weather, it was worth the money they spent just to see the happy joyful smile on his face.

After ten minutes of standing at the window watching the snow, Sam got a bit bored. "Hey, how about we go see if Santa has brought you some presents too?"

Dean didn't hear him, he seemed mesmerized by the snow falling outside.

"De-ean," said Sam, bouncing the little boy gently. "Are you ready for some presents?"

The little boy finally blinked and turned his head to face Sam. "What?"

Sam rolled his eyes fondly. "Presents?"

Dean turned back to the window, but nodded. "Kay."

"Come on then." Sam grabbed some tissues and the blankets from Dean's bed, and wrapped his sick brother up, before carrying him downstairs. Halfway down the stairs, he almost dropped Dean when a sudden sneezing fit caught him by surprise. "Whoa."

To make sure he didn't drop him, Sam sat on one of the steps, and waited for the sneezing fit to pass.

"Huh-hitchsh-uh! HetchSHUHooooo! Ishchoo! Huhh…PTSHCH! KTSHSHchuh! Aaaaaaatchoooooooo!" When he finally finished, Dean looked up at Sam, and sniffled. "Deanie woads atchoo'd."

Sam smiled, and wiped his face, before kissing the little red nose gently. "There you go, sneezy," he said, standing up. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Sam froze when he saw that there was 'snow' all over the living room, huge fake snowflakes hanging from the ceiling with the other decorations, and a snowman standing beside the tree.

"WOW!" yelled Dean with huge green eyes.

"Er... What happened?" he asked Bobby, who came in from the kitchen after washing his hands.

"Santa got a bit carried away with the snow," Bobby told him with a grin. "Ya wanted him to have a real white Christmas... so he's got one."

"Yeah. But since when does it snow in the house?"

"Since a special little boy was too sick to play out in this weather, so Santa thought he'd give him one more present."

Dean wasn't taking any notice of the two men, he was looking around the room with an amazed expression on his little face. If a smile could really light up a room, then the happy, delighted grin on Dean's face would have been enough to light up a block of houses.

The two men watched him with smiles of their own. "Did you use the machine?" Sam whispered quietly, so Dean didn't hear him.

"I did outside in the front yard and the back before fixing it to the roof, and I used real fake snow for in here. It looks just like the real thing, doesn't it?"

"It's amazing," whispered Sam, going to sit on the floor with Dean on his knee.

Dean clapped and giggled in delight as he put both hands in the snow and threw it in the air. "YAY!"

Bobby chuckled and got some presents from under the tree, and brought them over to the brothers. "There ya go, little man."

Dean gasped in surprise, he had actually forgotten about presents in the excitement of having snow in the house. With the help of his brother, he ripped the paper off, and cheered when he saw the remote control dinosaur. "Oooooh," he squealed, asking Sam to open it, which he did.

Taking the dinosaur out, Sam showed Dean how to play with it, and made it growl, and walk through the snow and across the room.

After Dean was finished with the dinosaur, Sam held out another present. "Here baby."

When Dean took the present, he started coughing unexpectedly, and dropped it back onto the floor, doubling over.

"Hey whoa," said a surprised Sam, supporting him and rubbing his back through the coughs.

Bobby got up, and walked into the kitchen to get him a drink of water. When he came back in, he knelt beside the brothers, and held it until Dean stopped coughing. "There ya go."

Sam took the glass, and held it to Dean's lips to help him take a drink. "Have a drink."

Dean fell back against Sam's chest, and placed his little hands over Sam's big ones, and had a drink of the cold water to help soothe his sore throat. He had a few sips, before turning his face away.

"Is that better?" asked Sam, giving the water back to Bobby, and adjusting the covers around Dean's shivering body. He got out some tissue, and wiped Dean's nose gently.

"Yeah," whispered Dean, picking the present back up, and ripping the paper off with Sam's help.

This one was a huge box of Lego that Dean saw on the TV. He also got some Batman and Woody costume pajamas, jumpers and jeans, and loads of other toys.

Bobby watched the tiny Winchester open his presents with his big brother, smiling whenever Dean smiled or giggled in delight.

While Sam helped his brother, he kept a close eye on him to make sure he was alright. But even though he sneezed and coughed a few times, he didn't seem to be able to stop smiling.

After the last present was opened, Dean reached forward, and grabbed two handfuls of snow, and threw them across the room. He squealed and clapped in excitement, and got two more handfuls.

Sam kept his arms around him and held him on his knee, laughing along with his sick, but happy brother as he threw the snow around the room.

Bobby got a handful of snow, and threw it at an unsuspecting Sam.

"Hey," said Sam, grabbing a snowball, and throwing it back.

Dean giggled, and got up to pick up more snow to throw at his big brother and uncle, who laughed, and retaliated.

A snowball fight broke out in the middle of Bobby's living room, until Dean started coughing violently and went to lay down in Sam's arms.

***********  
Later, Sam was sitting in the middle of the snowy room with a sleeping Dean cradled in his arms, snuggled up to his chest, the blankets wrapped around him. He smiled as he watched him sleep, the little snuffly noises he made were just so cute.

"Dinner will be ready soon," announced Bobby, coming into the room, drying his hands. "How's he doing?"

"Resting," Sam told him, not taking his eyes away from the little bundle in his arms. He placed his hand gently on the flushed cheek and felt he was burning up again.

"Bobby, can you get Dean's stuff from upstairs?"

Bobby nodded, and walked out of the room to get the things Sam had asked for. He came back two minutes later, and knelt beside the two Winchesters. "Here."

Sam took them, and placed them on the floor, ready for when Dean woke up.

An hour later, Dean woke up, and rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Hiya."

"Hey baby. How are you feeling?" Sam asked him, reaching over for the cold/flu medicine, and cough syrup. After helping him take it, Sam sat Dean up in his arms, so he could look around the room to see the snow.

"Hug," he demanded, his little arms going around Sam.

Sam smiled, and hugged him back. "There you go."

Wriggling out of Sam's arms, Dean crawled over near the tree, and started trying to build another snowman beside the big one Bobby had built.

Sam got up with the blankets, and joined his brother. "Here, we need you to stay warm," he whispered, wrapping the blankets around him. When he made sure Dean was alright, he grabbed some snow, and helped him build a little snowman in Bobby's living room.

"Huh-ETSHCHSH! hitchshooooo!" Dean sniffled and wiped his nose on his pajama sleeve, before getting another handful of snow.

Sam stopped what he was doing, and wiped the little nose with the tissue. "If it needs wiping, let me do it," he said, placing his hand on Dean's cheek to make sure his temperature wasn't going up again.

Bobby stood at the kitchen/living room door with his arms folded and a smile on his face as he watched Sam fuss over his little brother as they built a little man made of snow.

Dean grinned cheekily, and threw a small snowball in Sam's face.

"You little monkey," laughed Sam, putting his arms around him, and having a quick hug, before he continued to build.

After they built the snowman, Sam sat Dean back on his knee, and held him so his little back was to his chest. "Love you, little brother," he whispered in Dean's ear. "Get better soon, okay? I miss my little Tigger jumping around the house."

Dean turned his head up to smile at Sam. "Woves you, Sammy," he said, before turning back to play in the snow.

Sam watched him, the smile never once fading from his face. He adjusted the blanket, so it stayed around the little boy, before stroking his flushed cheek gently.

Dean grinned up at his brother, before grabbing one of his toys, and making it walk through the snow.

When Bobby turned the TV on, and there were Christmas songs playing on the music channel, Sam got up with Dean in his arms and started dancing with him around the room.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know. Where the treetops glisten and children listen, to hear sleigh bells in the snow," sang Sam, rocking from side to side with Dean, making him giggle happily.

Bobby grabbed some snow, and threw it over the brothers so it looked like it was snowing over them.

"YAY!" yelled Dean, bouncing in Sam's arms, trying to catch the snow as it fell around them. "YAAAAY! SNOW!"

Sam laughed, and continued singing and dancing with his sick little brother.

"Hitchshoooooo!" Dean sniffled and wrapped his little arms and legs around Sam, before laying his head on Sam's shoulder as he rocked and danced him around their snowy room while he sang along with the Christmas songs on the TV.

As the brothers spent the rest of the afternoon playing together, and making snow angels, Sam couldn't help but think that this was the best Christmas he ever had. He had a chance to be a dad, they made their own white Christmas, and even though Dean was sick, he was happy, and that was enough for Sam.

*The end*


End file.
